


Recalculating [Fic & Podfic]

by HYPERFocused, RsCreighton



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, M/M, Podfic, Podfic Length: 10-20 Minutes, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-05 20:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11585310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HYPERFocused/pseuds/HYPERFocused, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RsCreighton/pseuds/RsCreighton
Summary: Whoever they are, they're always them.





	1. Doctor, Doctor (Is This Love I'm Feeling?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodney would be lost without John.

**Title:** Chapter One: Doctor, Doctor (Is This Love I'm Feeling?)  
**Length:**   06:33  
**Format:**   MP3 & Streaming  


[ Mobile Streaming ](http://rscreighton.parakaproductions.com/Podfic/201708/Podtogether/%5bSGA%5d%2001.mp3)

[**Download File**](http://rscreighton.parakaproductions.com/Podfic/201708/Podtogether/%5bSGA%5d%2001.mp3)  
_(Right-Click, Save. THANK YOU, PARAKA! <3)_

**Calculating**

It was the very Monday-est of Monday mornings, when John Sheppard started his shift as an OnStarGate Navigation Expert, giving directions and other assistance to drivers of certain late-model cars and trucks. It was possibly the job he was least suited for, having a terrible sense of direction himself. This was not made any better, read: less embarrassing, by the fact that he was actually quite an accomplished pilot. But bird’s eye view navigation instrumentation and driving directions were entirely different. 

There was a part of him that kind of loved the job. It was fun to talk to people, and imagine what kinds of lives they had. Or to give them better imaginary lives.

“Welcome to OnStarGate, Mr. McKay. Meredith, is it? My name is John, how may I help you reach your destination?”

“ _Dr_ McKay. I go by my middle name: Rodney. That is, if I don't want people to mistake me for a whiny witch doctor on TV. “ Rodney let out an annoyed huff. 

John could tell he was going to be interesting. Or possibly irritating. “My apologies, Doctor. By the way, where do you practice?”

“I'm afraid that's classified. I'm not that kind of doctor. I've got Ph.D.s in physics and Mechanical Engineering.”

“Then I guess I won't ask you for medical advice. So should I call you Doctor Doctor?”

“Only if you want me to sing mediocre 80s synth pop, which trust me, you don't.”

“Hey, The Thompson Twins were great.”

“Sure, for being a three piece band, none of whom were twins named Thompson.”

“Point taken.” John thought a moment. “Robert Palmer!”

“'Bad Case of Loving You?' That works.”

“See, I'm glad you can be agreeable.”

“Who said otherwise? Morons, clearly.”

“Let's just say your reputation precedes you. You're apparently not much of a morning person.” 

“So, 'John', right? Sure, that doesn't sound fabricated." (He said this last bit sotto voce, but John still heard him). "I suppose your surname is ‘Smith?’” 

“Sheppard, actually. Major John Sheppard, formerly of the U.S Air Force, if you want to get specific.” John smirked, not that McKay could see. Irritating, definitely. 

“Okay, John. Nothing personal, but I'm really not up for chitchat. I'm about to be ridiculously late for a conference that by all rights should have taken place a year ago, if General Landry had just gotten his damn head out of his ass.” Rodney's voice trailed off, as if he realized he was, indeed, engaging in chitchat.

Landry, hmm. John remembered him. Rodney's ASS essment was true. “So, no chitchat, then. I can tell by your succinct instructions and lack of sharing concerns that almost certainly have nothing to do with my getting you from point A to point B that you're a get down to business kind of a guy.” 

“Hey!” Rodney actually sounded a little stung, and John kind of felt bad.

“Sorry. I was just teasing you a little. You seemed pretty stressed out. Why don't you tell me your destination, and I'll send your vehicle the directions.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” Rodney gave John his new lab’s address. If you can calculate the swiftest route, it would be a huge help.”

“Okay, now looking at the map, and allowing for traffic, your best bet is going to be to take the Einstein-Rosen Bridge.”

“Einstein-Ro --Very funny. Wait, you know what that is? How in the world would a random OnStargate operator know about wormhole travel?”

“Hey, I passed the MENSA test. And I have a Master’s degree in Aeronautical Engineering. “

“Oh. Well, then. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. But why on Earth are you doing this stupid job? Waste of a good mind.”

"I like to eat and pay my bills. Same as everyone." No way was John going to tell Rodney the whole sickening story of how and why he'd left the military. "I'm pretty sure wormhole traveling is still theoretical, but even if it wasn't, I don't think you could traverse one by Infiniti.” He laughed, a ridiculous braying sound that was somehow endearing to Rodney's clearly sleep deprived brain. “Though it would be an appropriately named vehicle brand to do so, don't you think?”

“Driving probably wouldn't be ideal, no. Did anyone ever tell you you laugh like a demented donkey?”

“Most people aren't that much of an _ass_ , no.” John waited. One...two..

“Hey! I'm not an -- oh, Ass. I guess I fell into that one.”

“Donkey over tea-kettle. Looks like I'll have to rescue you. Do you need emergency services? That's a guaranteed part of our OnStargate promise.”

“Funny. No, I'm fine. I'm actually a lot less stressed. “

“Good. You're just about at your destination, by the way.”

“Thanks, John." John could hear him pull into a space in Parking Level 2 at the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, but he didn't exit the vehicle. "Are you all right, Rodne--Dr McKay?" "Yes. I'm fine, A bit early, even. But as it turns out, I'm not in such a hurry after all. Why don't you tell me more about yourself. To begin with, why do you think wormhole travel is only theoretical?”

* * *


	2. The Motion Of A Thousand Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John thinks Rodney looks hot. Retail Hell turns into "Hello"

**Title:** Chapter Two: The Motion Of A Thousand Dreams  
**Length:**   04:07  
**Format:**   MP3 & Streaming  


[ Mobile Streaming ](http://rscreighton.parakaproductions.com/Podfic/201708/Podtogether/%5bSGA%5d%2002.mp3)

[**Download File**](http://rscreighton.parakaproductions.com/Podfic/201708/Podtogether/%5bSGA%5d%2002.mp3)  
_(Right-Click, Save. THANK YOU, PARAKA! <3)_

2\. Crazy From the Heat.

“Hey, where's the imbecile who was here this morning? The one who sold me this.” The clipped, pissy voice was clearly Canadian.

John,.who had just started his shift working the counter at the Atlantis Hotel gift shop, knew who it belonged to immediately, though he'd never met the man behind it. Coming out from the stock room behind the counter, John greeted his first (disgruntled) customer. “I'm afraid we have no imbeciles here at the moment. But if you'll settle for a guy who passed the MENSA test, perhaps I can help.”

“Do you know what I have here?” The broad shouldered man with the receding hairline and bright blue eyes asked John, holding up a small plastic container with the image of a neon yellow sun shining brightly over turquoise waves. 

“Um, it's sunscreen? “ John volunteered. He hadn't made that sale, but like everyone, he had heard about the legendary Dr McKay.

“It is, barely. Tell me, do I look like someone who would get any benefit whatsoever from SPF 15?”

.“No, not at all. Just how much time did you spend out in the sun?.” John grimaced sympathetically. The guy, Rodney, was hot; and well, hot. “Any SPF is better than none, they say.” 

“They? What, like the four out of five dentists? The answer is none. I'm just here for the conference. The solar exposure is just the potential skin cancer cherry on the complete and utter waste of my valuable time cake.”

“That bad? I'm sorry. Remind me not to ask you for a Yelp review.“John laughed, flushing, himself, at how stupid his braying laugh must sound, “How about we find you something a little stronger?”

“Yes, why don't we? I feel like someone's about to drop me in a pot of slow boiling water.”

“No, we have real lobsters here. The seafood buffet is terrific. We should, _you_ should check it out.” Employees weren't supposed to fraternize with the guests, but nobody ever followed those rules. Well, except for John, who had never been the least bit tempted by any of the women who'd come on to him. The men, either. They were just too perfect looking. Too into themselves. Too much drama. Too much ego, and no reason for any of it. Rodney‘s ego had multiple PhDs to back it up, and the kind of drama that would make John’s life interesting.

“Mensa, hmm”. Rodney looked at John appraisingly. “I think you could be right. Not the buffet, though. I'm deathly allergic to citrus, and there's no guarantee that someone hasn't cross contaminated something I would risk trying.“

“I'm sure the chef can whip you up something special. citrus free.”

“First dinner, and then maybe you could help me with the sunscreen. Now that I've got something to give me real coverage, there are some spots I have a hard time reaching.”

“Customer satisfaction is our number one goal.“ John wrote his name and room number down, and handed it to Rodney.

“The conference runs until 6:00 today. When do you get off?”

“Well, my shift ends at 5:30. The rest depends on you.”

“Does that line actually work for you?” Rodney's incredulous tone is oddly endearing.

“I don't know, does it?”

I'll let you know at 6:15,” Rodney says, but John can tell, the answer’s going to be “yes.”

* * *


End file.
